


luxury elite

by Belmont



Category: Hiveswap
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Hinted one-sided Cirava/Charun if you squint, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Other, Quadrant Baiting, Sex Toys, Sex for Favors, Webcam/Video Chat Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 14:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17122829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belmont/pseuds/Belmont
Summary: The best gifts are always from rich people with too much time on their hands and a follower count higher than their IQ.





	luxury elite

**Author's Note:**

> I think the dynamic between them had the potential to be pretty wild, so I wrote this to explore my idea of that. There might be a continuation of this depending on the reception, but I'm pretty positive it'll be a different POV if it happens. This isn't meant to be a 'ship' fic.  
> Both of them are the troll equivalent to 20 years old here, with Zebruh probably being a half-sweep or so younger. 
> 
> The title is taken directly from the vapor music artist luxury elite whose album 'prism' was the backdrop to this trashfire of a pornfic. I'd suggest a listen if you're into that kinda thing!
> 
> As usual, this was not beta read, is headcanon heavy + there's graphic depictions of ambiguous alien biology and explicit sexual content so if that makes you uncomfortable/potentially dysphoric please don't read on. Otherwise, enjoy this nightmare of a pairing.

God, when would it end.  
  
Their eye felt uncomfortably hot- edged with pain from hours of non-stop staring at an HD screen, and to top the ache, the room fucking stank of the insect vaperig. They went a little hard on their last pull and literally ended up pulling the poor thing apart. All was fair in the name of staying high on that moisturewave game.  
  
Cirava’s wasp lusus was consuming the busted rig’s remains within its ceiling-bound nest. Its massive blind eyes were focused in their direction, but thankfully the look of disdain was only directed at the triangular piece of vinyl over the gouged hole in their skull.  
  
”Fuck it, lmao- this is so stupid. I’m stopping the stream after this next one, I wanna get in my fucking ’coon.” But they were saying this as they were preparing a new stream to debut with some tracks off a remix LP featuring a lowblood vocalist whose voice- _shit was #blessed by the empress herself_ \- was so smooth that even highbloods got off to her songs.  
  
”Chixie, Chixie…” They dug for her humble profile on resoundcloud. The link was dropped in the video description while their back flattened against their chair. “Almost done, lmao.”  
  
The pale eye swiveled toward the edge of their desk, where they temporarily glared at an unopened parcel that’d been shoved there. The address was from the blueblood’s sector, and Cirava half-knew what it was and who it came from, but they wanted to ignore it until the last possible moment.  
  
Really, they should just make a video of them burning the box and its fucking undoubtedly gross contents but—hey, curiosity was a bitch.  
  
Once the stream queue was finalized and the entire LP was ready to go live, they powered down their workstation and rolled the chair backwards. A mournful glance at the decimated rig, may it rest in peace, before Cirava shoveled their nearest window open to air the hive out.  
  
The wasp vibrated angrily, but they ignored the sound and snapped their palmhusk open. 39684 messages across platforms, 9958 unanswered emails, 44 profile blocks done automatically (thank beyond for assistant apps) and one number they needed to access in the darker parts of their contacts. Their thumb paused at the bottom of the list, hovering over the name ‘Zebruh’.  
  
How many times did they delete this absolute fuck off their phone only to re-add him later? Parasites like him only sucked the life out of people who worked for their fame, right? So why did Cirava keep him around?  
  
Maybe parasites stuck together. It was promos from creeps like this that kept their inbox full and their follower count nice and high.  
  
They hit the call button, snorting to themselves when the eager voice on the line immediately picked up before the first ring ended. “Hey, beautiful. How are you doing this lovely evening? Finally decide to hit the upper end of town with your favorite suitor-in-waiting? I know your quadrants must be… _painfully_ empty. You finally letting someone fill yours up?”  
  
”Shut the fuck up, lmao.” The smile in their voice betrayed the vague sense of disgust creeping along the back of their throat. “Did you send me a package, shithead? I got something from your sector and I can’t think of who else would send me something, lmao. Wanted to make sure it wasn’t a bomb or some shit.” Their PO box was short-lived and had been indefinitely closed after **THE INCIDENT** , so the few that still had their hive address were a suspicious bunch.  
  
”I did send you something! Also, you really should speak to me with a little more respect. Not saying that as a highblood to a lowblood, but, you know I’m like a social justice warrior?  A pariah among my fellow ignorant elites? All of the charity work I _painstakingly_ do to help support your kind… well, let me just say it’s worth more than _any_ money. No more than a few hours alone with you in my hive—“  
  
”Why is the box so heavy, lmao?” They were busy jamming a pair of scissors into the tape. “It’s kinda small to be so heavy, honestly.”  
  
”The contents are made of a heavier type of silicone for more realistic sensations.” The scissors audibly fell, and Cirava could hear Zebruh shuffling curiously on the line. “Are you alright, beautiful? It sounds like you dropped something. Too bad I’m not there in your hive to help you pick it up.”  
  
”Realistic sensations-- the fuck? Lmao, it sounds like you got me something real nasty.” They glowered at the giggle over the line, to which the blueblood whispered creepily “I _certainly_ did.”  
  
One day they’d go to the blue sector and cull this pile of steaming shit personally.  
  
Inside the box were two pieces of thick silicone; one was a deep, richly colored indigo and the other was an earthy olive green. Their eye squinted, noting that the blue silicone rod was shaped into a rather generously proportioned bulge. The green rod didn’t have the same taper, and instead had a divot at the top of one blunt end. The mold was made to be relatively biologically accurate to what kind of opening an oliveblood might have, with room for a bulge of considerable girth to fit inside.  
  
”A fake fuckin’ nook and bulge.” They ran their fingers over the green silicone, feeling nauseated. “You really are a sick motherfucker, lmao.”  
  
”I couldn’t help but read some of your vaugeposts on your Chumblr page which inspired me to do a little digging here and there. Something about finding an oliveblood artist you really liked the work of… and how they worked with garbage, they leave everything ambiguous, how much it spoke to you… and you put together some beat for them—hey, when will you make a track about me?”  
  
”Shitttttt I thought I been made that blog private, lmao.” They chewed their lip, closing the box up and shoving it back onto their desk. “I’m guessing the gross dick in there is supposed to be yours?”  
  
”Who else would have such a tastefully large bulge? I hope every time you use it, you think of me.” Cirava couldn’t stop themselves from barking out an animalistic laugh. “Oh yeah! I’ll think about you when I set it on fire and toss it in the dirtpit behind my hive. I’ll pretend it’s your actual disgusting little bulge, lmao.”  
  
The pause on the other line made them smile, up until Zebruh scoffed. “The reason I went out of my way to spend money on luxury items for you was, I was hoping I’d get to see you use those puppies on the webcam. Not like, to objectify your lowblood urges or anything. It’s _empowerment_ , really.”  
  
”In your sweaty dreams, lmao.”  
  
”Didn’t you mention you were into that sort of thing? You posted about it on your NSFW Chumblr.” Their toothy smile melted into a snarl. “Get the fuck off my blogs, don’t you have anything better to do all night?”  
  
”Realistically? Yes, but I’ve been waiting for a commission to be emailed to me and I felt like scrolling your blogs in the meantime. I’ve been thinking about you...”  
  
”You’re thinking about anybody who can make you look less like a complete fucking loser. How many friends do you have, two? Tops? Lmao.”  
  
”Certainly more than _you_ do, heh.” The radiating sting traveled their entire body- making them flinch forward and grab at the desk for support. Oh god, when was the last time they were this pissed off? They shouldn’t let some asshat blue get so deep under their skin like this.  
  
”You… uh, you can pretend it’s not me,” Zebruh’s stupid voice kept on over the palmhusk speaker while Cirava fought to control their weakly pulsating psionics. “You know, I read a fanfiction about you not too long ago. You were paired in red with a fellow goldblood (it was rather attractive conceptually, you know?) buuuuut it didn’t seem to keep your attitude ‘ _canon’_ , if you will. In fact, it had some bit about you begging to produce offspring the **unregulated** way with the writer.”  
  
Their fist crushed the palmhusk, sending it flying off the desk and onto the floor. From its nest, the wasp lusus peered at its charge with a vaguely cautious air. _Calm down_ , it was echoing within their mind, _this isn’t worth getting worked up over_.  
  
The crackling of hardly functioning psychic power finally dissipated, and they felt their eye water from frustration. Fuck this, fuck this guy. Why couldn’t it have ended all those sweeps ago? The first time one of their LPs was stolen by a purpleblood? Why didn’t they just finish themselves off then and there?  
  
”Babe?” Zebruh was listening intently from the floor, now that the palmhusk was punched off the desk. “Sorry, babe. I forgot you can get a little _sensitive_. Maybe we can start over? How about, try those sweet toys out and when you’re comfortable we can make a show out of it. Sound golden?” He snickered at his own joke. “Alright, I’ve got a little email notification here so I’ll leave you to your business. Nighty night, beautiful.”  
  
”Choke and **_die_** , lmao.” They shoved the heel of their foot into the palmhusk until the screen flashed black.  
  
-  
  
Though the box had been discarded, the toys were resting on the lip of their recuperacoon as if to mock them.  
  
In reality, Cirava was overdue for some new nasty sex crap. All things considered, they hadn’t pailed in an eternity and rarely left their hive for anything aside from procuring edibles (of all varieties).  Using these stupid pieces of plastic were probably as close to getting sexually gratified as possible unless they decided to stoop into low ground and finally meet Zebruh IRL-  
  
Not happening, ever, period.  
  
Anyway.  
  
The green one in particular felt like the optimal choice to test out- as much as it disgusted them to use something gifted from the walking shitstain, it reeked of highblood excess and quality. It had to have been expensive as hell, and the idea of the indigo shelling out big bucks only to be told the items were absolute garbage made Cirava’s grin return to their previously drawn face.  
  
”So gross, fuck, lmao.” They ran a finger along the petals of the toy before slowly parting them. The inside was heavily textured and narrow- with a little lube, this piece of trash would feel like a dream on their bulges. Not to mention, they could pretty much fantasize about anybody being on the other end of this thing. It didn’t matter so much that the object of affection was only really _partially_ visible in their icon. The goldblood fished for their cracked palmhusk and thumbed through apps until they found their NSFW Chumblr account.  
  
Only half an icon worth of canon material, but hey, the rest was up to the imagination.  
  
-  
  
When the timed **_lo-fi_** ** _❂ chill_** ** _✌ beatz_** ** _✌ for_** ** _❂_** ** _|| ultimate zen_** ** _||_** ** _❂_** streaming session ended, Cirava prepared a new set of songs to be looped for their next livestream. They originally had a Q&A scheduled for tonight, but they ended up getting so high they deleted the script they’d drafted and replaced the text with a ton of Alternian ‘F’s’. Oh well, at least it was content to prep for tomorrow.  
  
But then their palmhusk was buzzing. Their eye squinted at the cracked screen to check if it was a DM from Chixie (who, by the way, was actually a total fucking angel online- did they mention that? Because, _damn_.) but instead it was indicating a received call.  
  
The private number ended up belonging to Zebruh, who drawled a casual greeting as soon as the goldblood accidentally hit the answer button. “Hey there, sweet thing. Couldn’t help but notice you still have all of your Chumblr accounts up and uh, quite frankly, it sounded like you’d been planning to delete a few days ago! I’m just curious what happened between then and now, beautiful. Did you have a little rest and relaxation session, maybe? A little **_you time_** , just to really… **_feel yourself_**?”   
  
”Yeah, got my red quad filled and I’m officially off the market fucker, lmao.” They smiled bitterly at the strangled sound of indignation on the line. “She’s crazy thick and down with the rig game too, and she’s a big purp so you know you can’t fuck with me no more, lmao.”  
  
”I- Wh _\- H_ \- I’m sorry? Wait, seriously? _Hah_ , **what**? Th—“ Zebruh’s stuttering suddenly went quiet. “Honestly, Cirava!! Fucking with me won’t win you any awards and we **_both_** know your quadrants are- _are as empty as mine_!!”

  
”Mine are empty by choice- I’m not desperate.” They leaned back with a half-yawn half-burp. “Those toys weren’t too shitty for a simulated pailing, though, lmao.”  
  
”So you used them! Any pics and/or vids?” From zero to one hundred with this tool, huh. Wasn’t he almost crying a few seconds ago?  
  
”Nothing I’d be down to share with you, asshat, lmao.” Cirava felt the side of their head throb with a dull ache from their empty socket. “I bet you wish you could see me use them, though. That huge fucking bulge felt amazing, lmao.”  
  
”Tch!! I’m sure it did!! After all, it’s modeled after mine!!” In reality, they hadn’t touched the bulge dildo but hey, he didn’t know any better. The toy nook on the other hand…  
  
”Have you used the other one?” While he didn’t sound _as_ enthusiastic, the curiosity in his voice was overtly audible. When the goldblood gave a little sound of affirmation, the indigo practically squealed. “ _From both ends_!! Why didn’t you send me a video??”  
  
They stared forward for a long few moments, the blue of their eye shot through with little rivulets of yellow, before groping for the palmhusk and sitting up from their desk. “You wanna see me use ‘em, right? Lmao, turns out I have some time to waste, so I’ll give your gross ass a sample of what you’ll never get.”  
  
”Oh!!! Yes!! Never say never, honey bunches!! Hold on, let me just… tell some of my guests to relocate…”  
  
-  
  
Probably because they were stoned beyond belief, but this didn’t seem like a bad idea at all. The happier this idiot was, the more promos he’d toss around, and Cirava wouldn’t cry about their follower count rising.  
  
They’d stripped down to just their tanktop and leggings. The eye patch was discarded too, and the palmhusk was positioned on the edge of a CD rack beside a pile of cushions on the floor of their respiteblock. Zebruh was on the other line of their video call, but he wasn’t visible- apparently talking to his ‘guests’ about his privacy or something.  
  
With a lazy look at the toys resting on one of the cushions, they smoothed a hand along their chest and leaned back into the pillowy softness behind them. When their fingers brushed the shape of a nipple, they gave it a squeeze until the second little nub hardened as well. Goldbloods really did have two of just about everything- sometimes more. Such mutations were a weird evolutionary disadvantage to walking batteries.  
  
Groping their breast from beneath a tanktop wasn’t terribly gratifying, so they pulled the fabric off and away. Zebruh still wasn’t back on screen, thankfully, and they used the continuing peaceful silence to fantasize a little about someone else’s hands _\- mouth- fingers_ \- kneading at their chest. The mental images caused their leggings to tighten uncomfortably. A soft, wet mouth lapping at their nipples would be a welcome replacement for the cool, calloused skin of their fingers.  
  
Still cupping one of their tits, they pulled at the band of their leggings until one twisting, slick golden organ was free. A second intertwined alongside it, and a much smaller third thrashed about against the fabric until they pulled the material down their thighs and let their three bulges writhe unobstructed.  
  
”What the _fuck_?” Zebruh’s voice broke their blissful fantasy of an oliveblood about to go slurp down their aching dicks. “The pornography of goldbloods is way more tasteful then the actual… physical bodies of you guys, huh? **Three** bulges, two sets of vestigial lactation glands, even your grubscars look _odd_.” When they bared their teeth to call him an ugly unattractive fecal pile, they immediately took notice of where the indigo’s grainy eyes seemed to be focusing.  
  
They kicked their leggings off and parted their thighs, holding their bulges out of the way of a golden dash hidden partly by dark pubic hair. “Oh fuck off, you don’t care about anything else but this, lmao.” Their nook was just starting to become slick with arousal- but it was relatively uninteresting compared to the rest of their body.  
  
Bile surged into the back of their throat when the blueblood licked his lips. “Ah, _there_ it is.”  
  
Keeping him going wasn’t that hard once he had a visual of the hole he was hungry for. They kicked one leg up onto a toppled cushion and pulled the petals of their nook open. A finger slid lazily inside, gathering the golden fluid, before jamming back in up to the knuckle.  
  
Zebruh fought with the zipper of his jeans, temporarily dropping his palmhusk on the floor and cursing. “Wait, wait—okay, keep going.” Not like Cirava was even listening to him at this point. They had their eye closed, a few fingers of one hand buried inside the warmth of their body while their other hand kept their bulges occupied with gentle tugs and squeezes.    
  
”Oh fuck- it looks so good,” Their eye cracked open to see Zebruh clutching the palmhusk in one hand, with his arm moving against something not visible in the frame. He couldn’t have had that big of a bulge, the gold figured, and if anything he was just yanking his dick really hard. What an idiot.  
  
Speaking of bulges, they reached for the dildo and knocked it into their lap. The toy nook was pulled off the nearby cushion too, but held away from their groin temporarily. No need to speed things up, after all, since they didn’t usually have an audience for this grody shit.  
  
”Which you wanna see first, fuckboy.” Their missing fangs became a window for the tip of a mustard colored tongue to poke through. “You tell me, lmao.”  
  
Stuttering, the indigo’s hand paused in the frame of the video as he squinted. The flush of deep blue to his cheeks almost made him look vaguely attractive- _almost_. “Put my dick in you.” He grunted out, sounding somewhat pained. “All of it, slowly.”  
  
”Huuuuuuuh? Magic word, lmao.” They shifted continuously forward, their smirk swallowing up the video feed until they knew their body was obscured by their face. “Say it, or you won’t get to see _fucking anything_.”  
  
Now it really did sound like Zebruh was in pain- fighting every fibre in his big blue body that screamed ‘never submit to a lowblood’; Cirava figured that was how all of them were. It was entirely wrong, of course, but the strain on the indigo’s face spelled out the deep internalization of the stupid conceptual superiority.  
  
”I’ll shut the fucking palmhusk off, lmao.” They ran their tongue along their bottom lip, spending a second longer playing through the thick scar on the right side of their mouth. Another beautiful reminder of how their own psychic powers nearly blew their entire body apart. “Say it.”  
  
With a shuddering breath, the indigo winced. “ _Please_. Please, put it in.”  
  
The dildo was drawn away from curious bulges, and the goldblood guided their cocks up into their hand so their nook was in full view of the camera. They watched the ‘T’ shape of the other troll’s pupils dilate marginally when the dripping folds were nudged by the tapered head of the fake dick; all attention focused on the hole.  
  
Slowly, the tip disappeared into the opening followed by inches at a time until the toy was seated fully inside their body. It was a comfortable fullness- nothing like the real thing, of course, but enough to pleasantly stimulate their walls. Zebruh was breathing audibly from the visual, though he was hardly visible in the frame of the video. In fact, his head suddenly bowed and shoulders quivered when the toy was playfully shifted a few inches out.  
  
”Hey, asshole,” Cirava’s eye narrowed at the abrupt movement. “-what’s wrong, too much for your tiny bulge? Lmao.” But the blueblood moved the camera lower on his end, giving a good view of his mostly naked bottom half.  
  
Two fingers were pressed up into a clenching, dark blue slit beneath a heavily swollen bulge. The dick itself wasn’t long, but it was almost awkwardly girthy- nothing like the perfectly shaped silicone version. The nook, on the other hand, was entrancing- their three bulges would probably tear it open, but they could easily see themselves fucking the slit until it was loose enough to take all three without foreplay.  
  
Green, they thought absently, would be the product of their colors. Probably a pretty light shade, considering they’d produce a good deal more genetic material. The mental image of those quivering lips overflowing with a viscous gold made them clench down hard on the toy, while their bulges thrashed against their stomach in desperation to make the idea a reality.  
  
”H-hey beautiful,” Oh god, that voice was enough to make them **INSTANTLY** dry. “-you said your quadrant situation is pretty empty, right? Maybe we could… you know, change that after tonight?” The attempted smoothness of his voice made Cirava wheeze with laughter- what a fucking joke this dude was.  
  
”You catching _feels_ , buddy? Lmao.” They lifted their leg as high as they could, sliding the bulge out and roughly back in with a heavy breath. Golden rivulets trickled down their thighs. “I’d rather fill… my quads… with my own lusus—“ They were fucking themselves on the toy more earnestly now, trying to replicate the sensation of an actual bulge writhing against the walls of clenching muscle. With their free hand, the groped for the toy nook and drew it down onto their groin. All three of their dicks tried to squeeze into the slit without any additional lubrication aside from what was equivocally troll precome, but only two managed to wriggle inside and fill the silicone rod up to capacity.    
  
The only sound on the other line was the soft squishing of moisture and pants of desperate air. It was good stuff just to listen to; especially considering Cirava was spared having to _watch_ Zebruh masturbate to the idea of getting fucked? Fucking? Them, whatever the hell.  
  
They moaned in a weak, wanton way once the toy pressed into the bundle of hypersensitive nervous tissue inside them. Their body sunk onto the carpeted floor, rolling onto their stomach and pressing their hips down against the nook with a frustrated force. Humping a sex toy against the floor wasn’t a great look, no way, but it felt pretty fucking good. There wasn’t even a way to simulate the rippling of pre-orgasm, so when the sudden sound of Zebruh’s choked cry of ejaculation came over the line, the goldblood could only respond with a resounding vibratory growl- hips crushed against the straining silicone hole while their own body clamped down onto the dildo. Their muscles struggled to milk the toys for non-existent genetic material, and they knew subconsciously that the indigo was doing the same thing on the other side of the screen- albeit, Zebruh had even less to work with by just using fingers.      
  
Once the initial heat passed through their nerves, and the sound of panting dissipated into quiet breaths, they felt the uncomfortable phantom pain throb at the fringes of their right eye socket. Reflexively, their body ached for the embrace of sleep, but the drug addled thinkpan screamed the opposite. _You’re mating, right? Where’s your partner? Keep fucking them._  
              
They glanced at the palmhusk, only to see the screen was black. The call hadn’t ended, but it was likely the other troll collapsed upon the floor as well. “Zebruh,” Their voice sounded far away to them. “-you still awake, dumbass? Lmao.”  
  
” _Uh… nnhh_..” The soft noise on the line had them grabbing for the phone with a flash of irritation.  
“Stop playing with your nook and **pay attention** to what I’m saying, lmao.”  
  
”I-- I hear you.” He must’ve sat up from the floor and juggled the palmhusk back into his lap. The bags under his eyes seemed to have grown darker, and his ponytail was mostly fallen out at this point- thick hair fanning over one broad shoulder. “That was… really nice, honey. It would’ve been nicer if we weren’t separated—both literally and figuratively.”  
  
”Consider this incentive, lmao.” They held the palmhusk in such a way that only their face was visible. Their free hand worked the bulge out of their nook and the other toy (now grossly filled with oozing rivulets of gold) off their sheathing dicks. “Link my GrubTube streams; I don’t care who you toss it around to, just make sure people see it.” Then, they flashed their remaining teeth at the screen while hovering the pad of their thumb over the ‘end call’ button.  
  
“I’ll videochat you again with these things, and I’ll make you beg for me to fuck you up.”  
  
-  
  
Their channel gained a few thousand subs in the weeks that followed.  
  
Most were fellow goldbloods, some blues and purples, and the usual overwhelming amount of rando-rusties. Cirava had been riding the high of their popularity surging up the most searched in the music section of GrubTube, second only to Marvus Xoloto’s clown raps about the fragility of the current timeline’s power in his latest single ‘ _gon b a yikes frum me dog’_. Even they had to admit, that shit was quite the bop.  
  
More pressing on their mind, though, was the fact that they’d been asked to DJ a live show in the midblood sector by one of their new followers. It’d been sweeps since they’d even set foot in a club- the rolling anxiety in the pit of their stomach kept them from agreeing to turn out.  
__  
What if- what if- what if-, whatever.  
  
At the same time, though, they only had one life. Second shot. This wasn’t going to happen again any time soon, maybe never? Why the fuck not. That was a chance to gain even more of an audience, too.  
  
Silently thanking the walking cesspool known as Zebruh for whatever amount of cash he used to pay off people to follow his accounts and read his promos, they typed up a hasty email agreeing to DJ at the club one night. When the date was selected, they’d post it up on their GrubTube. If things like this worked out, they wouldn’t even really need him, would they? If they started working on live sets, they could self-promo to hell. Merch line, here they come. They just needed that sweet, blue bitch push.  
  
Oh yeah, this was the start of a beautiful (but not quadranted, okay?) friendship with the elite.


End file.
